The Knight, the Bishop, and the Rook
by singingstarryknights
Summary: In the end, she could only choose one. GregSara. One shot.


The Knight, the Bishop, and the Rook.

In the end, she could only choose one.

…

"Check." Greg smiled at her, moving his knight into position to capture her king. Damnit. She was so horrible at chess. She slyly slid her piece to the square to the left, and narrowly escaped capture.

"Sneaky."

"Nuh uh. You keep leaving him wide open." Greg's smile faded as he regarded the board again, evaluating his moves. He slid his Bishop close to her Queen, but behind the remaining pawns, protecting it from her. She bit her lip in concentration. She hated chess. He left her, really, with three options.

The first one was obvious, the Knight. She could capture him, but he was flighty, dancing around her in a gentlemanly manner, teasing her as he snatched up all her pawns, tearing down her defenses. The Knight had charmed her, distracted her, ran circles around her in what she supposed was as much chivalrously friendly etiquette as she was going to see in a chess piece. It was a risk with the Knight, and while she was sure of his intentions, she knew he'd be her downfall if she chased after him.

Then there was the Bishop. So close to her Queen, almost within reach. But he had the power to skitter away from her, and he had in the past, slipping through her fingers time and again in a well-crafted manner. He sat behind the few pawns left on the board reverently, holding her at an arms length and examining her moves, her choices, with a calm, shielded eye. She'd tried for the Bishop a few times since sitting down here with Greg, but always, the Bishop was one move ahead of her, capturing all her offensive pieces, disabling her from assertively seeking out other pieces on the board.

But she had been so focused on the Bishop and his caution, and sometimes so distracted by the Knight and his precarious paths, that she had forgotten about the Rook, leaving herself exposed completely. He hadn't moved the remaining Rook the whole game, choosing to keep him where he had started in the far corner, by his elbow. He left the Rook to his own devices, watching her from a distance, gauging her reactions to the Knight and the Bishop as they manipulated the board in their own way. He was stagnant, but he always had the opportunity to make the massive leap across the board, and capture her King. He didn't though. Greg hadn't moved his Rook at all, and she had forgotten it was even there, blending in with the faded black of his sweater. The Rook was strong, steady, constant. He was tougher than the wood he was fashioned out of, more durable and hardy than she had given him credit for.

As she backed her King into the far corner to escape the Knight yet again, he smiled softly at her. As she took her fingers off of the wooden crown on the wooden King, he pushed that dormant Rook all the way across the board, pausing at the square beside the one that held her King.

"Checkmate."

In the end, it only took one to conquer her, to win the game. The choices had always been the Knight, the Bishop, and the Rook. She had been so enchanted by the Knight, so focused on the Bishop, that she had forgotten about the Rook.

"Sara? Checkmate." Greg offered her a childlike smile, and she brought herself out of her thoughts to catch his gentle gaze.

The Rook.

Why hadn't she ever seen it before?

She returned his smile, and pushed the board out of the way. The game had suddenly become not about chess, but about life. Choices. She had three choices, although her Knight, her Bishop, and her Rook looked different than the pieces on the board. The Knight spoke in a thick accent, with a dashing smile and a charming manner about him. The Bishop guarded himself from her behind not a wall of pawns, but a wall of entomology textbooks.

The Rook however, he was something different. He had grown silent in the past year or so, more serious, more steady. She'd forgotten about him, but looking at him now, she realized he had always been the Rook on her chessboard. Strong, sturdy. A place for her to hide her damsel-like insecurities. The Rook never judged her. Greg never judged her.

She laid a gentle hand over his, stilling his movements. He had started to pick up the pieces, and now she found herself prying the Knight and the Bishop from his hands. He said nothing, opening his palm for her, holding out the pieces for her to take or leave as she wished. She glanced at him, catching his eye, and saw a hint of amusement behind otherwise serious, studious irises.

"I never liked country music." She picked the Knight out of his palm, and placed it in the box. He arched an eyebrow at her, holding the Bishop out between them. She picked that up too, and examined it. "Or insects." She placed the Bishop in the box beside the Knight and turned back to him, leaning on the table with her elbows.

"That's all there is, Sara."

She smiled softly again, and picked up the Rook that had claimed victory over her King, turning it over in her hand before placing it in his, and closing his fingers around the little wooden chess piece.

"The Rook, Gregory, is kind. Tough. Sturdy." He held his balled fingers with both of her hands. "And patient."

He smiled shyly at her, and leaned over the chessboard to brush his lips elusively against hers, in a gentle trace of a kiss.

"Leave it to Sara Sidle to make a game of chess into the sexiest thing I've ever heard." And she laughed.

In the end, she could only have one.

In the end, one was all she needed.


End file.
